The one where I ran a lot and then I didn't

So you're not left hanging, the final recap of my running career...

The thing about running is that it's a great idea on paper. You get a great cardiac workout, it helps with losing weight, you create endorphins and that elusive runner's high. The Couch to 5K program is a wonderful premise, and probably works for a bunch of people. Indeed, I was not one of them. Surprising to anyone who knows me? Not so much. To be fair, I started 3 weeks late in my training and the 5k came up before I had finished. But come hell or high water, I was running the Chocoholic Frolic!

The morning was a bit chilly, maybe 45ish outside. It was November after all and I was happy we didn't have snow or ice. The course ran through part of lowertown St Paul, across the Wabasha bridge and finished on Harriet Island. I had my official number, a timing chip, my good shoes, the best gear I had and the will to finish. I also made myself a sign. It said Stage IV won't stop me today! What's stopping you?" and a link to Metavivor.org. A bit heavy-handed? Anyway I thought maybe it would inspire me not to quit. Truthfully it was incredibly inspiring to get smiles, cheers and high fives along the route so I'm glad I wasn't too chicken to do it.

My friend Melissa met up with me at the beginning. She ran on to get her personal best and cheered me on at the finish. Yay! I also found my friend Annette and her friend Paula at the starting gate and we kept pace off and on throughout the race. More on that later. My previous running experience involved an extensive walking warmup and some stretching before hitting stride. Of course when there's a thousand or so people in a crowded street, we got in a few attempts at Zumba from some well-meaning fit person above the crowd. I tried to jump up and down and get my legs limbered up but I knew I was not getting enough. Still though, I was going to do this or die trying. Here's the starting gate. Imagine a thousand people crammed in, waiting for the starting gun. (number is approximate, it felt like ten thousand)

Here's Paula and Annette. In fact it was Paula who posted on Annette's FB timeline about the race, which is how I got hooked.

The starting gun goes off and we are going! I feel the adrenaline pumping but I stick to what I think is a good pace. I've got the Spotify mix from my training, urging me along. So far, so good. Less than a mile in and it's the first pit stop. At the bottom of the tallest hill ever. (probably not as tall as the Quick Bix hill honestly, but that was at the very start of the race) The greedy fast runners had filled their pockets with the chocolate goodies so I passed up the empty boxes and took some water instead. Seriously, greedy people. And I wasn't even the last runner by a long shot at this point!

After a little time up the hill, I realized I was not going to be happy if I ran all the way to the top of the hill. As in, I would either pass out or throw up. Deciding not to torture myself was an easy decision and I walked to the top. Once up on the bridge, I started running again and was shortly passed by a woman who cheered me on by saying "I've been trying to catch up to you for 20 minutes, you're amazing!" Nothing like a good feeling to keep you going! I can't remember if she kept up with me or passed me. Probably passed me but at that point I was looking at the ground in front of me. Just keep swimming...

Meanwhile Annette and Paula were doing more of a fast run, slow to walking, repeat, pace so I saw them on and off until Harriet Island. At that point, Annette decided to walk and Paula ran with me. So helpful! The rest of the pit stops had tables of scattered boxes empty of chocolate until the last stop where they had already picked up the empty boxes and were taking the tables down. Oink oink, people.

Rounding the bend to the finish line, Annette speeds up to us and we cross the finish line together. Running! So sorry to the poor lady (walking) who got a bit nudged as we went by her. Finished! Not as exhilarating as I'd expected but it was pretty damn good to be done. We were surrounded by all of those fit people casually laughing about the little race, and shouldn't we run some more tonight, blah blah, it was all I could do to not kick them in the shins. My knees had started to whine by mid-race and they were full on bitching at that point. I hopped out of the long waiting line and missed my chocolate milk but I managed to get the bar from a grumpy hander-outer guy. Whatevs. Melissa was there and we went into the pavilion for the chocolate treats, thankfully not taken by all the early finishers.

All that was left was to walk the long walk back up the bridge and back to our cars and then my racing career was complete. I did it. I finished. I didn't run the whole way but I would have if not for that damn hill.

And for the next two weeks I walked like Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump when he got his fake legs. I did all the icing and Ibuprofen I could take and finally went in to get cortisone shots in both knees. Holy wow did that hurt. And then it didn't! I love modern medicine!

In the end, I finished at a respectable 41:10, which is a 13:15 pace. A bit off from my 11:10 pace in the Quick Bix but this was longer, I was (too much) heavier and well, there's the damn cancer and all. I finished 1684th out of 2591 and 365th in my division of 600 runners. And there was chocolate.

Thanks for the fun, running shoes, but I'm just not that into you...

Running into week three and into pinktober

I've made it almost through week 3 of the Couch to 5k program! Tomorrow morning I'll finish the last run of the week. The weather has been perfect for running, which has helped a ton. My new shoes have held off the shin splints so far. Yea! That's a first for me.

Unfortunately my knees are on fire. Can't quite figure out when it crosses the line from 'working out the kinks' to 'damaging your joints'. Advil is my friend. I've had some knee pain in the past but it's mostly been shins, hips and back pain for me. Then again I've never started a running program as a Stage IV cancer patient. I'm just hoping I'm doing more good than harm with my new found excitement for this new program. 

I've really felt the full force of Stage IV in the last few days. Pinktober is upon us and the MBC community at large is all kerfluffle. So much anger towards the callousness of the pink washing all month long. It has caused me to think a lot about how I feel about it all. I don't know. I guess it depends on my mood. I try very hard to be glad for those lucky survivors who have 'conquered' cancer. It is so important to be hopeful and maintain a positive attitude. I was there once too. So there that I went on with my life without another thought. Which is good and necessary to maintain a sense of normalcy. But it also made the discovery of the metastasis an even bigger crash. 

So what do you do? Terrify the 70% of survivors for whom it won't return or bring more and more awareness so that the 30% of us who have it return won't fall into the pit of despair? I wish I had the right answer.  I'm not sure if I would have lived differently if I knew I had a 30% chance rather than the 5% I was counting on. I can tell you though, the crash was HARD. No amount of pink prepares you for that. And in fact it made me WAY less prepared. 

So as the ice bucket challenge may have been unrelated to the disease of ALS, so too is the pink Biffy or the pink toolset (etc etc) unrelated to Stage IV breast cancer, the part of breast cancer that is not curable and is in fact 100% fatal. But, just think of how much that ice bucket challenge made for the study and research of ALS. Bucketloads that's for damn sure. 

Pink washing is awareness. Awareness brings money to support research. Selfishly I hate the fact that the balance is weighted heavily against Stage IV. Hardly any of the money raised by pink trinkets goes to me and my mets sisters' fight. But can I be angry that it might find some early detection that will save the lives of thousands of others walking behind me? I'd hate to think so. 

Truthfully, I'm more concerned about just making it through the next day. Balancing the checkbook that I haven't looked at in months. Helping Katy succeed in her new class while she struggles to find her way. Keeping up with work, which is more difficult every passing month but is no less necessary for keeping us in our house and eating more than popcorn for dinner. Managing the pain and fatigue from the meds that so far have kept this disease at bay. This is my daily battle inside of the larger war against this ugly disease. 

I'd love to be out on the forefront of the advocacy for MBC. I am grateful for the strong women who can do it. And maybe some day I can too. Maybe my few and faithful readers can help. Remember us living and thriving with metastatic breast cancer would you please? Learn about Stage IV at metavivor.org. Know that it's not a fluffy, pink world out there for everyone. 

New School Year, New Beginnings

The summer ended with the last splash in the Linden Hills pool before we hung up the flip flops and got ready for school.

Katy started Hi-5 Pre-Kindergarten this year. She's in an inclusion class, which means there's an aide for the 3-4 kids in class that might have some struggles during the day. For Katy, that's transitions and sitting still. I've met her teacher and her aide and I'm so excited for her to have this time with them. They are both amazing women and teachers. I think it's going to be her best year yet. If only we could get used to the 6:50 am bus arrival. ughA

I'm starting a new beginning too. Since Katy's off to school so early and I have to be up for it, I am embarking on the Couch to 5K program. Ideally I'd lose some weight and not be so sore all the time. Worst case scenario I'm more sore all the time but I'm going to be optimistic and hope that this program is an easy enough start to make a lifestyle change for me. There's a 5k run in November that involves a swag bag of chocolate. Good goal for me I think. We shall see. More to come on that!

Happy September everyone!